More than just a Memory
by ncis-lady
Summary: Six months after the Battle, George and Angelina both still suffer from the aftermath of the war which took away their soulmate and lover, respectively. Friendship story! No ships except for hints of FredxAngelina!
1. Perfect Isolation

Here I am again. :) I started this story quite a while ago, planning to make this a one-shot, but as always, it turned out longer. Why does it even still surprise me? LOL

So this is set 6 months after the Battle. George and Angelina both still suffer from the aftermath of the war which cost them a soulmate and lover, respectively.

This story was mostly inspired by a wonderful song by one of my favourite bands, Flogging Molly. For those who don't know them, they're an Irish-American band and their songs are a mix of Irish Folk and Punk Rock. "Whistles the Wind" is a song of the album "Within a Mile of Home", and the quotes are from this beautiful, quite melancholic song. Look for it on YT!

The story title itself is part of the line "Wherever I am you'll always be more than just a memory" in the song "If I ever leave this World alive", also by FM and probably known thanks to the movie "PS I love you".

I have the second chapter finished and am currently working on the third. However I have a very important exam at the end of the month so this story won't be completed before early September (esp. since I haven't yet figured out the number of chapters LOL).

As always, I hope you don't only read but also review (even the shortest reviews make my day), and point out any mistakes that bother you - I'm not a native speaker so I'm always glad to learn something new.

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><p><em>My isolation, now there's a sobering thought<em>  
><em>A minute alone, a lifetime too long<em>

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><p><strong>Perfect Isolation<strong>

"So have you made up your mind yet?"

Angelina's head shot up and she stared at her flatmate in confusion.

"About what?"

Alicia sighed, and Angelina saw an all too familiar look of concern on her face. God, she hated that look.

"Ange", said Alicia softly, "I asked you two weeks ago if you would join me for my job interview tomorrow. You said you'd think about it."

"The interview, yeah. In London."

Of course Angelina hadn't forgotten about it. Avoiding the subject was more like it.

"Yes, in London. It won't take long I hope. Chances are they'll bust me out after five minutes anyway."

"Don't be stupid, they'll love you. Everyone does. Perfect little Alicia." Angelina grinned as her best friend blushed. It was a fake smile, but she hoped it was convincing enough.

"Well, whatever. I thought it would be nice to spend the day in the capital, we could have ice-cream at Floreans-"

"It's December", Angelina interrupted. How can it be December again, she wondered. Where did the last six months go?

"- and you can ask at Flourish & Blotts about that book your mother mentioned she'd like for Christmas-"

"I already got her a present."

"- and we could stop at Weasleys' Wiz..."

"I'm not going, okay?"

Angelina was probably more shocked by her aggressive voice than Alicia. She noticed that her hands were shaking, and she hid them in her pockets. Maybe Alicia wouldn't see it.

Of course she did. She always did. She noticed when Angelina was fighting back tears for no particular reason, she knew when she had slept badly (or not at all), she always saw right through her act. Why should today be any different?

"Ange", began Alicia, and Angelina was aware of the cautious tone in her voice. "I think he'd be happy to see you."

Happy. Not exactly the word she would have chosen.

"It's been six months, hun. You can't avoid him forever, you know."

Angelina did know that. But that didn't make it any easier.

"I'm not avoiding him", she said, trying to sound confident. "Why should I? I just have stuff to do."

"And what exactly is it that you have to do during the Christmas holidays?"

Angelina shrugged.

"Stuff. You know. Work"

Alicia huffed and gave her the look again. _The_ look. Angelina hated it with a passion.

"Fine then. Make everyone think that you're okay. I get it, you're over it. I mean, it's not that I hear you crying at night or anything, guess that's totally normal. Still I think you owe it to him. But that's up to you."

With that, Alicia left the room, leaving a pensive Angelina behind.

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><p>George was refilling the cupboards with stocks of Canary Creams when the doorbell rang. Two young people came in, and George's face lit up as he recognized his two friends.<p>

"Lee, Katie! What are you doing here?"

"Hey mate", Lee said and shook George's hand. "We were just passing by and thought we'd say hello."

"Just passing by, hm", George smirked. "So it's not a special occasion that brought you to London then?"

"Now that you mention it...", Katie reached out her hand and showed George the shiny ring on her finger that he had already noticed. He smiled and pulled her into a hug, then shook Lee's hand.

"Congratulations you two! So Lee you cheeky bastard, how come you kept this a secret from me?"

Lee blushed, and Katie suddenly looked very uncomfortable. George had the distinct feeling that they'd anticipated that question.

"I didn't mean to, but...", Lee shifted uneasily, "you know, it didn't feel right so shortly after... well."

George forced himself to a smile. He could talk about it without acting like a girl.

"I'm sure Fred wouldn't have minded you telling me first. After all, I'm the one who said you two were a perfect match in the first place."

"You're also the first person we've told", Lee said, almost as if he wanted to apologize for not telling him earlier.

"Alicia and Angelina will be next", Katie added. "We'll meet them tomorrow."

"Oh, so you're going to Bristol then?"

"Erm, no. They are going to come here tomorrow. Alicia's got a job interview at Gringotts. Didn't she tell you?"

"I guess nobody's telling me anything these days, but that's okay, I'm not into the gossip anyway", George said just a bit too light-heartedly. In fact, he hadn't spoken to Alicia ever since he'd met her at Halloween. When he had visited Fred. And he hadn't talked to Angelina for six months.

As if he was reading his friend's thoughts, Lee said, "Maybe you should meet up with her, don't you think? It's been half a year, and you know how she felt about him. Maybe..."

"No", replied George. His voice didn't sound nearly as firm as he had intended it to. "I mean... no, sorry. How is she, anyway?"

Katie and Lee exchanged a quick look which didn't go unnoticed by George. He just couldn't quite define what it meant.

"I haven't met her for a couple of weeks", said Katie, "But I think she's doing okay. Having Alicia around helps her a lot, I guess."

George nodded. He had made the experience himself. Alicia seemed to have a sense for doing the right things at the right moments.

He forced himself to a smile – not too convincing, though, he thought. Sometimes it was still hard.

"How are you holding up, mate?", asked Lee carefully, and George knew his best friend simply cared about him even when he really didn't want to have to answer that question.

"I'm okay", George shrugged.

It was always hard. He wondered if it would eventually be easier.

Again, Katie and Lee looked at each other, but neither said a word for a couple of seconds. The silence was strained, and it seemed to George that all three of them were secretly glad to hear someone coming into the shop.

"Well, we gotta go", said Lee and patted George's shoulder. "Was good to see you again."

"Totally good to see you", nodded Katie. "Hope to meet up again soon. Take care of yourself George, okay?"

"Sure", replied George, "I always do, don't I?"

Katie hugged him quickly and kissed him onto the cheek.

When the shop door closed behind the two friends, George kept staring at it for a whole minute and wondered just when exactly life had started to go on again, and why he hadn't noticed.


	2. Pale Faces

Chapter 2 of my George/ Angelina story. I just had my last exam of the year, unfortunatley it didn't go too well I'm afraid, so a few reviews would definitely cheer me up!

Inspiration for this chapter (and the following) came from the movie "Pearl Harbor", and of course again from Flogging Molly's song "Whistles the Wind".

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><p><strong>Pale Faces<strong>

She still couldn't believe she'd decided to join her friend after all. It was cold and the streets were crowded with people doing their Christmas shopping. Angelina wished she'd stayed in her dorm with a book and a cup of tea. Instead she was hurrying after Alicia, who was heading for the Leaky Cauldron to get into Diagon Alley. There was still plenty of time but it was just so typically Alicia to set preparations for all eventualities – including a compete breakdown of the floo network. Apparating was out of the question since Alicia was so nervous that she was bound to get splinched, or so she said. Angelina, though, simply knew she would not be able to bring up the sense of determination required for this kind of transportation, let alone for having Alicia do a side-along. Her friend wouldn't look too good in a job interview with a missing eyebrow.

That was why the two girls had to use the passageway through the Leaky Cauldron – which meant struggling their way through a Muggle-crammed London.

"What are all those people doing here?", gasped Alicia as a woman bumped into her and almost dropped her three large shopping bags. "And why in the name of Godric Gryffindor do they need all those bags, seriously?"

"Calm down", Angelina chuckled. "You know it's Christmas time and even Muggles need to get presents – they're just not as gifted as us who can simply enlarge the interior of our bags. I don't understand how they can manage it, though", she added, thinking of the enormous amount of stuff she had crammed in her purse alone.

Alicia rolled her eyes as a family of five blocked her way, obviously debating on whether to buy gingerbread figures or chocolate-covered fruits. While the brown-haired girl seemed to become more and more annoyed, Angelina found that she actually liked it.

There was a constant rush of people, cheesy muggle-style Christmas music she had never known before (and she really appreciated not having to hear Celestina Warbeck sing about her love-filled cauldron for the thousandth time), and above all, there were no familiar faces around except for Alicia's.

"Look, we're almost there", acclaimed Alicia excitedly, pointing at the door of the old pub that served as the passageway to Diagon Alley. "What do you think, should we get a cup of tea first or go to Florean's?"

Angelina took a deep breath. Surely her friend would hate her for this, and she couldn't even blame her. It was Alicia's big day, after all. What a lousy friend she was, letting her down like this. But Angelina just couldn't stand the thought of entering that pub today.

Alicia seemed to sense her hesitation, and she stopped to look at the dark girl. Scrutinizing eyes looked back at her, and Angelina shifted uneasily.

"You're not coming, right?"

Angelina shook her head, trying to read her friend's mind and find out if she was angry or – worse – disappointed.

Alicia simply nodded, though, seemingly understanding what Angelina herself couldn't put into words. Somehow, this made it even worse, and suddenly she found it hard to hold back the tears.

She would not cry. Not here, not today.

"It's okay", said Alicia, "I know where to go. You do remember that Katie and Lee wanted to meet us, though, right?"

"I know. Tell them I'm sorry."

"Sure I will." Alicia gave her friend a hug. "Enjoy this weird Muggle world and don't let them see your wand."

Angelina smiled gratefully.

"I'll be fine. Good luck with the interview, I'll keep everything crossed for you. And when you're done, you contact me immediately!"

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><p>George was meandering aimlessly through the capital, not even knowing why he had left the shop and kept Ron in charge, "For just an hour or two, then I'll be back". Somehow the encounter with Lee and Katie had struck a nerve, and he had found it difficult to focus on the customers while feeling more and more like he was suffocating. Finally, he had decided to get some fresh air. Ron hadn't been too amused, after all, it was the busiest time of the day and the fact that it was less than two weeks until Christmas didn't make it better. Still, his younger brother hadn't even tried to protest, and that was probably the most troubling thing George had on his mind right now. There had been a time when Ron would have refused, complained or at least been sulky – but not today. George wondered when exactly Ron had left the tactless kid behind and grown up – then he remembered the tear streaks on the dust-covered face, and he choked.<p>

They had all changed. And George didn't know how he could possibly, ever, adapt to these changes.

Maybe that was the reason why he had left Diagon Alley and had decided to visit the Muggle part of London. Diagon Alley still showed the signs of war, with boarded up shops whose owners had fled the country or – worse – hadn't survived, old posters of Ministry warnings bleached by the sun and torn by the wind, and people staring at him when they thought he wouldn't notice.

In the other part of London, nothing had changed and nobody knew him or the man he used to be, and right now, this sounded like Heaven to George. He still had to get a Christmas present for his dad anyway, so that he would walk on until he'd find a store that sold electric devices. Unlike his father, George had eventually even found out the proper spelling of that word, but once Hermione had started on cathodes, anodes and cells, he and Fred had decided there was no use in bothering with such nonsense.

The cold wind began to sting his eyes.

As he was strolling through the streets, George soaked in the Christmas atmosphere and asked himself desperately how December had come so fast. He wasn't ready for Christmas. All around him people were doing their Christmas shopping, some moving slowly hand in hand, others merely rushing by. Children would stop and press their noses against the shop windows.

George didn't look into any of those windows. He steered clear of anything that could somehow reflect his pale face and the dark circles around his eyes.

An hour later, he left a crowded shop with something that – given a certain amount of creativity - looked a lot like a supersized mouse. Due to the enthusiastic shop assistant, that thing was the "top bargain of the week when it comes to steam irons", and as far as George could tell it had a plug and several buttons, which made it also top present for his Muggle-crazy father.

It was snowing when he returned to the street, and as he gazed at the sky for a second, he bumped into someone, making him drop his plastic bag.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you, and - "

The voice stopped mid-sentence, and there was a vaguely familiar tone in this voice as well, and George looked up.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Gringotts with Alicia?"

The moment he'd said it, George could have slapped himself. What a perfect way to start a conversation after half a year. And he thought Ron was tactless.

He looked at the woman in front of him more closely, and he wasn't sure what he saw in her eyes. Tired eyes, definitely. The Angelina he'd known at Hogwarts never looked exhausted, not even after post-Quidditch parties and night-long studying.

"I'm sorry I haven't been in touch with you lately", said his ex-classmate. "I meant to, really I did, but with Quidditch and uni and -"

"- yeah, I guess I've been trying to avoid you, too", said George, giving her a sheepish smile. "No need to deny it, right?"

"Maybe you're right", answered Angelina, though still looking rather guilty. "Well... what are you doing here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be working?"

George shrugged.

"Needed to get out. Christmas present for Dad, you know. Left Ron in charge, he needs to prove he's a worthy employee."

Angelina nodded, then checked her watch and said: "I don't want to take away your time, I mean, if you need to get back..."

"It's okay", George said, much to his own surprise. It would have been so easy to get out of this unharmed, and yet he hadn't seized the chance. And before he could correct himself, he heard someone say, "What about a drink? Sit down and chat?" It was his own voice, and he really didn't know how he could have made this change of mind within just two seconds.

"That... sounds good", Angelina replied with the slightest hint of hesitation in her voice. "But where should we go? Do you want to go back to -"

"No, not back to Diagon Alley." Somehow, this was the last place George wanted to go to for a long-avoided conversation with his former classmate. "I know a pub or two round here."

"A Muggle pub?" Angelina didn't look too keen about it, but George nodded fervently.

"You'll like it. And besides... it's gonna be kind of an adventure, right? Should be fun."

Had he really just said that? Even the words itself sounded wrong.

"Okay. I guess I'll trust you. Don't disappoint me." She winked at him as she said it, but still George felt uncomfortable. Hadn't he already disappointed her by _not trusting her_ in the first place?

"It's just down the street", he said, showing the direction with his free hand. "Follow me."

And for some reason, she did just that.

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><p><em>Next chapter might be finished by Sunday, but I won't promise anything ;)<em>


	3. Drink with the lost Souls

_Passed my last exam, woop! And pretty good, too :) _

_Chapter three, here we go. Read the A/N's at the end, please ;)_

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><p><strong>Drink with the lost Souls<strong>

Angelina couldn't believe what she was doing. Wasn't this exactly what she'd been trying to avoid? And yet here she was, following the redhead towards a pub which was really just about 300 yards away. They stopped at the house and Angelina noticed the sign above the door.

"'The Auld Triangle'? I've never heard of such a name."

"Muggles", said George, as if that explained everything. "Let's get inside."

George opened the door for her, which Angelina acknowledged with a smile on her face. The Weasley twins had always been known for chivalry when it came to girls.

Her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. She hoped George hadn't noticed.

As she entered the pub, she was surprised by the atmosphere. She had never been in a Muggle pub before, and somehow she'd always thought that it would be – well, different. But in fact, it wasn't. Sure, the music was different, the beer mugs had to be refilled manually, and of course the people sitting there looked pretty normal compared to the sometimes weird visitors at the Hog's Head or the Three Broomsticks. But apart from that, it was warm and cosy, people were sitting together in groups, chatting and drinking and sometimes looking at the screen hung up on the wall. There were moving pictures of people in colourful shirts running after a ball, and it took Angelina a few seconds to realize that this had to be what Dean Thomas had been on about when talking about "football". A man with a guitar was sitting on a bar stool on a little stage, playing the instrument and singing a song Angelina didn't know.

"Can't beat Quidditch, right?", George muttered behind her, pointing at the monitor. "By the way, that thing's called telly-wishing – at least that's what Dad told us."

He led her to a table in the corner, from where they could watch the musician as well as the door. Another group of young people came in, laughing and sitting down at the bar. They had to be in their mid twenties, Angelina thought. They looked like they were without a care in the world. The sight reminded Angelina of the time when the Gryffindor team had celebrated a victory over Hufflepuff in Hogsmeade. The team members and a few fellow students, butterbeer, all off them squeezed at the table and her hip brushing ever so slightly against the redheaded Beater next to her. She had hardly dared move, but then Fred had flashed her _the_ smile and nothing else had mattered. Now that night seemed like a lifetime ago. Angelina took her eyes away from the group, suddenly finding it again hard to breathe.

A young waitress came over and smiled as her eyes fell upon George.

"Hey there, long time to see! Same Jim-Coke as you used to?"

"I didn't know..."

"Oh well, some faces I don't forget."

She winked at George who suddenly turned very pink, so that the color of his face was in striking contrast to his red hair. Angelina fought hard to suppress a smirk.

George cleared his throat.

"No, just a Guinness, please."

The girl nodded and turned to Angelina.

"What are you having?"

Angelina doubted they had anything like Butterbeer in the Muggle world, let alone a fancy _Circe's Craving_, her favourite drink made of different sorts of rum, a bit of brandy and pineapple and papaya juice. So she just looked over at George quickly and mumbled, "What he said."

The waitress beamed at George once more before she left. George followed her with his eyes, a frown upon his face when he looked at Angelina again.

"What are you smiling about?", he asked.

"I just couldn't help but notice that it's definitely not the first time you're here. I guess that even if the – what was it? - Jim-Coke brought you here in the first place, it definitely wasn't what made you return."

George gave a small laugh, for a moment wearing the same mischievous look on his face that she knew so well. It faded within seconds, though, and Angelina noticed that in fact no smile and devilish grin could keep up the pretense that George was still the same. Of course he wasn't.

It was then that Angelina looked at her former teammate more closely. Somehow, in the dim light of the bar, the dark circles around his eyes stood out even more against the pale skin. His hair was short, almost like his brother Charlie's whom Angelina had met all those years ago at the Triwizard Tournament. The hole at the side of his head was clearly visible. Angelina still couldn't quite look at it without feeling a bit sick. When she'd first heard about his injury – Fred had told her a few days after it had happened – she had indeed thrown up. That had been way to close, and from the look on Fred's face she'd known that he was downright terrified only thinking about it.

Now George looked at her in his own intense way, and his jaw was slightly clenched when he spoke.

"Jane is a nice girl indeed. Only one who never asked questions. Just brought me the Jim and a burger and then let me be."

"Who's Jim?"

The corner of George's mouth twitched.

"Pretty much like Firewhiskey. I didn't realize I had it that often – until tonight, at least."

Angelina decided to not ask exactly how often he had spent his nights here using said Jim as an agony-aunt. It was none of her business. She was relieved when the waitress arrived just at that moment, placing two pints of beer onto the table.

"Cheers, Jane", said George, handing her a couple of strange-looking coins. It had to be Muggle money, Angelina realized. She didn't ask where George even got that. Instead, she raised her glass at George, for a short moment wondering if she should say something but then decided to be quiet. Instead, she started drinking to avoid the awkward silence that hung above them despite the soft music from the stage.

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><p>George watched as Angelina took a first, careful sip of her beer. It tasted very different from Butterbeer, which was exactly why he had taken a liking to it. It never seized to amaze him how simple things, like particular smells or seemingly random images, could ruin his day. So he tried to avoid them as best as he could. It worked quite well, although some things were simply impossible to shut out. Like the fact that whenever he saw Angelina, he couldn't fight back the image of her and Fred dancing all those years ago. From all the times he had seen the two together, this was the one picture that stood out from all the rest.<p>

He took a gulp of beer on his own, reminding himself just in time that tonight he should maybe slow it down a bit. It was embarrassing enough that Jane had mentioned his earlier visits to the Auld Triangle in front of Angelina. Although he had never been much of a drinker, he couldn't deny that ever since Fred's death, he'd tried to seek comfort in the burning taste of Firewhiskey or other sorts of liquor a few times too often. It was something he was ashamed of, if he was honest. He'd never let it go too far, never ended up an unconscious mess on the bathroom floor, but still he couldn't help thinking that his family wouldn't approve of that if they knew. Fred definitely wouldn't.

He bit his lip and tried to think of something else. Anything to start a conversation. He couldn't believe it was so hard. This was Angelina, after all, his friend. It shouldn't be so difficult. It had always been easy for Fred.

"So, how are you holding up?"

It was Angelina who had asked the question, and there was something in the way she looked at him that made him feel uncomfortable. Somehow, he knew that he would have a hard time lying to her. So he decided to stay close enough to the truth.

"I'm okay", he said, shrugging. "Some days are better than others, but you know how it gets sometimes. All in all, I'm doing okay, I guess."

It wasn't entirely false. He actually did have good days, like when Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had had its own article in the Daily Prophet, praising it as "the most entertaining and brilliant shop for joking devices since Pratt the Pranksterous's very first joke shop established in 1786".

He really didn't need to fuss about the bad days.

"How about you?", he asked Angelina.

"Yeah, I'm alright", she answered slowly. "Really. I've been assigned Captain of the university's Quidditch team."

George noticed the pride in her voice, and he smiled.

"Congratulations, then. Won't be long till the Harpies knock on the door."

Angelina blushed.

"Wait a second... don't tell me..."

"Yep. They already have."

George didn't need to fake how impressed he was. He'd always known that Angelina was good, best of the team (except maybe for Harry Potter, who was a downright genious when it came to Quidditch), but playing for a national team was a whole new level of extraordinary.

"That's... great. Really, awesome. You deserve it. You're one of the best I've ever had the pleasure to play with. And I mean that in a totally serious, non-suggestive way", he added with a sly grin.

Angelina chuckled.

"Thank you, George. That means a lot, coming from you." Her tone became more serious. "I was only good because I had a great team."

Suddenly, George wished he hadn't already emptied his glass. So he just clenched it tightly, wondering why he couldn't quite look her in the eye and instead stared at the menu card on the table.

"I mean it, George. We were awesome. You and Fred might have driven us all up the wall from time to time, but apart from that, we were pretty damn perfect."

He looked up, and she gave him an almost cautious smile, as if she wasn't sure whether she had said the right thing or not. There was no need to make her feel umcomfortable.

"The nose-bleed nougat for Katie. I remember that one. I've never seen you in such a rage before", he said.

"You two were unbelievable. And then you and Malfoy got into that fight and I was standing there with no Beaters and Seeker. Really not the way I imagined my first year as Gryffindor Captain."

She gave him a reproachful look. George almost apologized, but then he noticed the hidden smile on her face. He couldn't help it. He let out a small laugh, and somehow, it felt good.

"Remember the day we had training and I couldn't participate because I was suffering from high fever?"

"Yes..."

"One word: Fever Fudge."

"You wouldn't dare!", Angelina gasped, suddenly giving a very good impression of her old self. If looks could kill, George thought, he might drop dead here and now.

"Well", he shrugged, "the weather was really nasty. Fred would have skived, too, but we figured it would be suspicious if we both got sick. He decided to save his turn for some other day. Bad luck for him, we had brilliant weather for the rest of the term."

"You cheeky..." The rest of the sentence was drowned in a fit of laughter. When she finally gasped for air, Angelina added: "I was actually feeling sorry for you, you know? For Godric's sake, I was thinking of visiting you in the hospital wing! But when I got there, Madam Pomfrey told me you'd never even been there!"

George joined in her laughter. He hardly noticed Jane bringing two new pints of beer.

He thought that this night wasn't that bad after all. He could only hope that it would stay this way, because he didn't know how he could probably cope with the other kind of memories. Those that didn't make him laugh at all.

He held on to his beer, took a drink and listened to Angelina reminiscing about her first day at Hogwarts.

* * *

><p><em>AN:_

_1) My favourite Irish pub is called "The Auld Triangle". To be found in Paderborn, Germany ;)  
><em>

_2) The cocktail that Angelina is thinking of is actually a "Zombie". I had to give it a new name, of course, so I chose Circe's Craving because in Greek mythology, Circe is a goddess who transformed her enemies, or those who offended her, into animals through the use of magical potions. (see: Wikipedia) I thought it would fit, because too much of Zombie can definitely turn men into beasts ;) Furthermore, Circe was also on the Chocolate Frog Cards. (see: HP-lexicon)_

_3) Pratt: old English name, meaning Clever Trickster, source: baby names website LOL_

_4) I don't like Guinness that much, like George I prefer Jim Beam-Coke ;) (Am I even allowed to say that here? Kids, don't drink alcohol. Alcohol is bad for you. :D)_

_5) In case you haven't noticed, the chapter titles refer to the song as well. Song line for this one would be "So you drank with the lost souls for too many years"._


	4. No going now

Sorry the update took so long. I'm currently helping out at a conference that is held at my university. It's a great experience and lots of fun, but it didn't leave me much time (and energy ;)) to write.

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><p><strong>No going now<strong>

"...and then the Sorting Hat seriously considered putting me into Ravenclaw, and all I could think of was 'Everyone knows that Gryffindor has always had the best Quidditch team and Merlin help me, I'm not gonna play for the losing team', and the Hat laughed – at least it sounded like that to me, I don't think anyone in the Hall could hear it – and said 'Well, well, a fighter. It takes a lot of courage to talk to me like that... so maybe... yeah...' And then it sorted me into Gryffindor. I was so excited I almost slipped on my way back to the table."

"I remember that", George grinned. "You were so embarrassed, but we thought you were pretty awesome for going on with your head held high."

He decided to not tell her that Fred had actually whispered, "She's cute, kind of", then blushed and added hastily, "I mean, she seems okay – for a girl."

He couldn't suppress a smile.

"What are you so smug about?", asked Angelina with a suspicious look on her face.

"Oh, it's nothing", George replied maybe a bit too fast. It didn't seem like Angelina believed it, but she didn't dig deeper. He was grateful for that.

Sometimes it took him by surprise how he could think of Fred without getting sad. It was a more than welcome change, and surely a sign of progress. There had been a time when he couldn't say Fred's name without bolting from the room to hide the upcoming tears. To be honest, it wasn't even that long ago. It was good to be able to talk about, or at least think of him like this.

Still, George didn't trust himself when it came to emotions. He'd made the experience that his feelings could change within a glimpse of an eye, and without a warning, too. He'd rather not let this happen tonight.

Angelina was still watching him quietly, the only sounds the chatter of people at other tables and the singer strumming his guitar and singing a melancholic song unknown to George.

_Our love was on the wing, we had dreams and songs to sing  
>It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry <em>

The song struck a chord, yet what it was exactly that touched him he couldn't quite determine. He listened to it for a while before he realized that he should probably say something. What had Angelina been talking about again? Hogwarts, of course. He sighed inwardly. No matter how he wished to avoid that subject, it was pretty much impossible and he knew it.

"My own Sorting was quite unspectacular", he remembered. "I knew I would be in Gryffindor, never had a doubt. Bill and Charlie and even Percy were there and so had my Mum and Dad, and my uncles and aunts and basically everyone on my family tree."

And Fred had been sorted into Gryffindor just seconds before his own name had been called, and eleven year old George had been convinced that not even a talking hat with centuries of magic would have the power to separate him from his twin.

He didn't tell Angelina that, either.

"Quite a history of brave people then", said Angelina, though George wasn't sure whether she was addressing him or talking to herself. He nodded.

"Dad still insists that those were actually the best days of his life. I guess I needed to grow up and leave school before I could understand that."

"Yeah", agreed Angelina, smiling softly. "We had some good times there, no matter what. Even double potions with Snape isn't all that bad in retrospective, and Umbridge..."

"She was a monster, but all those tricks we played on her? Definitely worth the detentions."

"Spoken like a true trouble-shooter."

"Like a true Gryffindor", George corrected her. "Although I'm not sure if it was brave to steal one of her special quills, or simply damn stupid."

Angelina gasped, eyes widening with both surprise and horror.

"Tell me you didn't do what I think you did!"

"Well, Lee came up with that idea in the first place", said George with a shrug, "He said we could expand our line of goods – we already had the Spell-Checking Quill and Smart Answer Quill – and charm a quill so that whenever someone was writing with it, the person would get stupid things written on the forehead. You know, stuff like 'Moron' or 'I love Severus' or something like that. We thought it would be worth a shot, so in order to find out how that thing worked, we transformed one of our own quills to look like Umbridge's, and swapped them during detention."

"And she didn't notice?"

"Oh, she did notice", George laughed. "She was just about to question us and probably would have given us another detention straight away, but just as she was shouting at us, McGonnagall showed up and asked what all the noise was about. Old Toad explained it – of course without mentioning the special features of her quill – and McGonnagall took one look at the fake one and said, 'That looks perfectly fine to me, Dolores. Us teachers ought to have more important things to do than raise a fuss over a quill, don't you think?' I swear I saw her winking at me as she said that. And before Umbridge could get at us again, we left. End of story."

Angelina shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Of all the stupid things you've done, that takes the cake. Did you at least succeed in making the Moron-Quill?"

"Nope, we actually forgot about it. You know, with all that happened after we left... I'm not sure if I even have it, might as well have thrown it away."

Actually he knew for a fact that the quill was still hidden in one of the drawers, but George didn't want to talk about it. After all, he still had the barely visible scars on the back of his hand.

_I must not be disloyal to the Ministry._

He laughed bitterly, and only when Angelina looked at him questioningly he noticed that the choked laugh had actually come out loud.

* * *

><p>Angelina was still having a hard time figuring out whether she liked this conversation or not. Most of the time it was easy-going and she relaxed, the next moment that changed completely, like now. George's laugh had sounded so... fake. The kind of laughter you implied when something wasn't funny at all. And she didn't know what had caused it. There had been a time when she had been somewhat able to read George's mind, since he had always been a guy who wore his heart on his sleeve. He had never hidden his emotions, be it happiness or sadness.<p>

But that had changed, and Angelina found it difficult to handle this new, completely unpredictable, George.

She decided to not ask what George had been thinking of.

Instead, she tried to set foot onto less dangerous ground.

"So, Ron is working in the shop then? I heard Harry and Hermione went back to Hogwarts to finish their NEWTs."

"Well, Ron has never been too keen on studying", said George, his absent-minded gaze shifting back to focus on her. "I never asked him you know, he came to me and offered his help and I accepted. It's temporarily, though. For now, it's good to have him around. Never thought I'd say that but... I don't know what I'd do without him. He's – oh for Merlin's sake, damnit!"

His eyes were suddenly wide, and again Angelina wondered if she'd said something wrong. But before she could bring herself to ask, George checked his watch.

"I totally forgot about Ron. I've been gone for two and a half hours, I'm surprised he hasn't sent a Howler yet to ask where I am. Poor Ronniekins will actually have to work for his money tonight, I guess."

He smirked, and only when Angelina saw it she smiled herself.

"Can you imagine a Howler going on in here? I'm so glad I never got one myself. I remember the day when Ron got his, after stealing that car of your dad's. It was a flying car, if I remember correctly?"

"Yes, and it was pretty awesome, too. Mum didn't approve of it, though."

"I guess everyone who sat within a five mile radius from Hogwarts that day knows that now. Ron's face was priceless."

"It was his first Howler", explained George with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We got our first one ten minutes after we'd boarded the Hogwarts Express. Can't say we didn't deserve it, to be honest. Poor Mum. She must've known that we wouldn't exactly follow in our older brothers' footsteps."

His voice was soft as he spoke, a tone Angelina hadn't heard all night. Still she noticed the almost inaudible stumble at the word "we". Everytime George said it, his eyes would turn just a shade darker, the lines around his mouth a bit deeper. His hands were clasping the glass in front of him, his eyes becoming suddenly absent.

"She hasn't yelled at me once ever since F -"

His voice broke.

Angelina remembered the last time she'd seen Mrs Weasley. Crying on her husband's shoulder, her fingers holding on to a tear-stained tissue, shoulders shaking as a coffin was lowered into the ground.

Her breath caught in her throat, and within seconds realization struck.

She couldn't run away from the past. During the last hour, she had hidden her emotions behind memories and dreams, but nevertheless she would eventually have to face the truth.

Memories are a wonderful thing, but if it's all that's left, you'll find that it's hard to see their beauty through the blinding pain they bring.

The music seemed far away, as if muffled by a thick mist, and the words hardly made their way to her ears.

_'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide_

She turned her head and found George looking at her with shiny eyes, and she felt her own eyes burning as she heard herself speak from somewhere far away.

"He used to call me Angel."

A tear ran down her cheek, but she didn't wipe it away. George's lips formed the ghost of a smile.

"He was the only one besides Mum who would call me Georgie."

She could see him choking, and reached out for his hand, but then drew back. Instead she simply looked at George, at the man whose mirror image visited her in her dreams and made her wake up in the middle of the night, and the hurt in his eyes pierced right into her heart.

"I miss him so much."

She wanted to say more, but she couldn't go on. Tears were running down her face, and she blinked furiously to stop them, but it was a battle lost long before.

She could feel George's hands on hers when self-protection finally gave in to emotions.

_Oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so_

* * *

><p><em>AN:_

_1) "Fields of Athenry" is one of my favourite Irish songs ever, and it's one of those songs that when played at the pub, everyone sings along to it. Quite a sad story, though._

_2) The second song in italics if, of course, "Danny Boy". There's a wonderful version of that song at YouTube, just search for "Danny Boy Ireland". It never fails to reduce me to tears._

_3) The story about Umbridge's quill is made up, there's never been anything about that in the books. But I'm also working on a short story in which this quill might play a role, so I thought I'd mention it here._

_4) The title is from the song line "Oh you'll find your way out, but there's no going now, every woman and child drags you down for the dive. It's not safe being free, can't give back what you feel. You said you'll always be in Heaven with me."_


	5. Song without you

Last chapter :) Thanks everyone for your reviews, you're awesome!

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><p><strong>Song without you<strong>

Angelina wasn't a weepy girl. She would always try to hide her sadness, instead vent her emotions by hitting Bludgers or by running for an hour until her mind was free from everything but the open road ahead.

Yet here she was, unable to hide her tears which she'd kept secret so well during the last months.

She wasn't the kind of person who would break down and sob and have everyone around look at her. She simply sat and felt the tears slowly rolling down her cheek. She didn't say a word. The people in the bar most probably didn't even notice that something was wrong.

She looked at George, and wondered how he could pull himself together that well. His eyes were shining and a bit wet, but he wasn't crying.

"I'm sorry", she muttered. "I'm being silly."

Who was she to cry in front of George, _George_ of all people, George who had lost his twin and who had to hurt in a way that made her own pain nothing but a prickle in comparison.

George squeezed her hand softly and shook his head.

"No you're not. There's nothing silly about being sad. It's nothing to be ashamed of, either. Believe me, I've been where you are a million times."

"Then how do you deal with it?" Her voice was hoarse, it sounded strange. Not like her at all. "I mean... I can't even begin to understand what you've gone through, and I do feel stupid because I'm crying over him and you aren't and that's despite the fact that I'd barely seen him the months before the battle and I have no right to..."

"You have every right to miss him", said George with a firm voice. "What makes you think that you don't? Just because you split up before the battle doesn't mean that you care about him any less that."

She stared at him wide-eyed. Sure, George had known about her relationship with Fred. He'd also known that it hadn't lasted all that long and that both she and Fred had decided to break up when the war was coming closer. He could not know, though, that all her attempts to get over Fred, all the times she'd gone on a date or held someone else's hand, had been nothing but a lie.

_You know we can't be together now. Not with the Order and the war, we can't._

_I know. But maybe, when the war is over, we can start this all over again. I've always said I'd rather die than be without you. After the war, we'll find each other again, I promise._

Those were the words she'd been holding on to. She could still hear them echoing in her ears, she could feel the touch of his hand and his lips on hers. A dream now, a nightmare, it was hard to distinguish them sometimes.

"You still cared about him, and he sure cared about you. So why shouldn't you be grieving just as much as I am? You know, directly after the battle, I thought I was the only one in the world who really felt the pain of losing him. I thought that because I'm his twin, nobody would ever fully be able to relate. And I still don't think they can", he added after a short pause, looking thoughtful. "I don't mean no disrespect, but I just know that for me, it's different."

Angelina nodded, wiping her eyes. She didn't ask what exactly George was referring to, but she was sure that he was right. If she was having a hard time dealing with losing Fred, she didn't even want to think about how hard it was for George.

"It took me a while to realize that just because no one else feels the way about Fred as I do, it doesn't lessen their grief. It doesn't make their memories any less valuable. Whatever memories you have of Fred, they're as precious to you as my memories are to me. They're different, but what does it matter?"

George took a deep breath, and Angelina thought that this was the longest she'd heard him speak ever since his eulogy six months ago. She choked and wiped her face once more. She couldn't believe how calm George was, how easily he spoke about the past. If he could do it, then why was she acting like a drama queen?

"How do you do it?", she asked quietly. "You're so... strong", she said for lack of a better word, blushing slightly. It hadn't come out quite the way she'd intended.

George didn't seem to have noticed. He merely flashed her a sad smile.

"That's because I've had people tell me all this before. The last six months were a nightmare most of the time. There were days when I was barely holding it together, when I was sure that I couldn't ever go on."

"But you did."

"Yes, I did. Because I had help from my friends, you know? My family, most of all, but also Lee, Oliver, Alicia... they were there for me when I hadn't yet realized that I needed them."

Everyone had been there, except for her. Angelina felt sick. A great friend she had been, hiding only because he happened to look and talk and act exactly like Fred had.

"I'm sorry, George."

"Don't be. I was being honest when I said that I'd been avoiding you, too. I guess I didn't want to let you see how messed up I'd been. And believe me, I was."

"I should have been there for you, and I wasn't. And for that I apologize."

She meant it, although deep inside she thought that she wouldn't have been of great help anyway.

"Thanks, Ange. That means a lot, really. Just know that I never, _never_ blamed you for not being there. And if all I learned during the last months is how I can actually pass on some wise words on to you, than I'm glad to do it and anyway, it's a nice change to be on the other side of comforting."

He winked at her, and Angelina finally relaxed. She hadn't felt the tension in her body until she let go of it.

* * *

><p>George took a sip of his beer. His throat was dry, he couldn't remember the last time he'd talked that much. It had felt surprisingly good.<p>

"He wrote me a letter, you know?"

His voice was quiet, he hadn't even intended to mention it. _The letter_.

Angelina stared at him.

"He... he wrote it a couple of months before he... Just in case, you know? Talk about tempting fate."

It was a poor attempt to joke, and none of them smiled.

"He was still thinking about you. Said he had plans involving you – thank God he didn't go into detail on this one."

This time, the corners of Angelina's mouth twitched.

George had read the letter so often that he would have been able to recite every word of it. Even after six months, he used to read it almost every day, reminding himself again and again to be strong.

_You're still there. You made it through, and there's a reason for that. You have to be there for the others, they will need you just like you need them. Make them laugh when they feel like they can't even smile; hold them when they fall apart. They will do the same for you if you only let them._

"Don't push your friends away", he said, "Talk to Alicia about how you feel. She's been there for me once, she's really good with that."

Angelina nodded with a smile.

"I will. Promise. Speaking of Alicia, what time is it?"

"Almost seven. You want to go?"

"Alicia should be with Katie and Lee now, they wanted to meet us at The Dancing Dragon at six, but I didn't want to go."

George didn't ask why. He looked at his empty glass and shrugged.

"We could still head over there, don't you think?"

"Maybe you're right. Katie indicated that it was important, and I feel like a right git not meeting them anyway."

George managed to resist the urge to tell her the reason for the meeting. He knew that Katie would never forgive him for spoiling the surprise.

"Okay then", he said instead and waved at Jane who came to the table immediately.

"Anything else I can get you guys?", she asked, looking curiously from George to Angelina. George wondered if she'd been watching them from the distance.

"No thanks, we'd just like to pay the bill, please."

"You're leaving?"

The disappointment was written all over Jane's face.

"Yeah, we need to meet friends of ours."

Jane placed the bill onto the table, and George paid for the drinks, dismissing Angelina's attempt to pay for her drinks herself with a wave of his hand.

The waitress turned around, and Angelina pointed at the bill and smirked.

"You ought to take that with you."

It was then that George noticed the scribbled numbers at the bottom of the paper. He frowned.

"What's that?"

"Her phone number. Muggles have telephones to talk to each other from the distance, Alicia once told me. I guess it comes in handy if you can't just send a Patronus."

It was George's turn to blush now, and he hastily put the paper into his pocket, ignoring the grin on Angelina's face and Jane looking at him from the counter. He got up and went to the door, followed by Angelina.

It was even colder outside than it had been earlier. Snow was falling, and the streetlamps gave a warm light.

"You ready to go?", he asked.

"I am."

"Then off to Diagon Alley!"

But before George could head towards the Leaky Cauldron, Angelina held him back.

"What is it?"

She simply pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you", she whispered.

She let go of him again and he smiled at her.

"You're welcome. Let me just suggest that we won't wait another six months before we meet again, okay?"

"That's fine with me."

Side by side they made their way over to the wizarding pub.

As they left the Muggle world behind, George thought that entering it today of all days had been the best idea he'd had in a long time.

He was sure that Fred would agree.

* * *

><p>If we must part forever,<br>Give me but one kind word to think upon,  
>And please myself with, while my heart's breaking.<br>~Thomas Otway

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><p><em>AN:_

_1) The letter George is referring to can be found in my story "If you're reading this". ;)_

_2) Like I said, no shipper story as far as George/Angelina is concerned. For me, George belongs to Alicia. He won't call Jane (and not only for lack of a telephone)._

_3) The title refers to the song line "Life's only life with you in this song"._


End file.
